Drag Me From Heaven's Gate
by aero-breaking
Summary: They meet; they collide. Their fates intertwine and head towards destruction. A world filled with deceit, hate, and humans with difficult powers and little emotions. "The gate grants wishes but it also takes something away"—darker than black. AU. levimika. jeansasha.


**note one: **first of all, i'd like to begin by saying that i, personally, don't care about the recent developments of the snk manga. because isayama is a troll, always has been, always will be. so until their is definite truth to these _speculations_, because that is what they are at the moment, i will not stop. actually, even if what everyone is saying turns out to be true, i still wouldn't care. levimika has, and always will be, one of my main snk ships, so go figure. and that's all i have to say about that.

**note two: **umm, this idea has been on my mind for a long, long while. i just never…managed to get it on paper. (or computer, whatever). which sucks, a lot. but after re-watching darker than black and re-listening to the soundtrack and watching a whole lot of gintama, i finally, finally managed to hammer some words out. (gintama had everything to do with the creative process and nothing to do with the story line, by the way. so don't worry, i wont be breaking the fourth wall or making sexual innuendos. maybe.)

**note three: **this will mainly be levimika and jeansasha but there will be other pairings as well. just heads up on that. (incase you didn't read the summary and are expecting something else…?) all hate, or as they used to call them back-in-the-day, _flames_, will be forever ignored. (also, there will be slight drug use…so…if you're not okay with that…uh, sorry?)

**note four: **anyway, the point is, this story is supposed to be serious. angst-y. (also, characters will be used in a way that fits the story, meaning, some may do things that you may or may not agree with. /whispers/ there will be character death) also, please excuse the randomness of the author in these notes. she doesn't know what's going on halfway the time.

* * *

**DRAG ME FROM HEAVEN'S GATE  
**_aero-breaking_

**darker than black au**

* * *

_Terminology:_

∙_Contractor: Human's with supernatural powers who are believed to be emotionless, rational, self-interested, and cannot retain social bonds. Must make a 'payment' in return for using their powers. They have begun to evolve, showing emotions of love, joy, guilt, and sorrow._

∙_Doll: Emotionless, cannot function without a 'master', and use mediums to send their 'observer spirits' which serve as reconnaissance. Can act as perfect sleeper agents. It can be given the memories and personality of another person and assume a person's personality perfectly, mimicking all their habits, dreams, and feelings until the time is right. Have begun to evolve showing confidence, free will, and sorrow._

∙_Moratorium: An anomaly that shows both Contractor and Doll qualities. Do not have control of their powers; go into an unconscious state were they can do nothing but destroy. Shifting from a Moratorium to Contractor is nearly impossible. _

∙_Hell's Gate/Heaven's Gate: A chaotic space that mysteriously appeared and caused the creation of Contractors, Dolls, and Moratoriums. The area is unstable and things that cannot be explained are not uncommon._

* * *

"**The gate grants wishes but it also takes something way." **—Kirihara Misaki

* * *

**year: 862 (three years ago)  
****time: february 18; 10:56 AM**

The sky is turning dark, the clouds lazily loom overhead, moving and overtaking the blues of the atmosphere. Soon the whole expanse of the town is gray, not a hint of blue or any color other than dull gray. The air turns stiflingly hot and in minutes the sky is crying. It is disturbing just how quiet and lonely it all is.

Her team moves; their faces set into indifference, they scatter and abandon her. She doesn't bother calling them. She's too sure of their responses, because they are all so predictable, including herself. Memories flash behind her eyelids, of a time when she really was unpredictable, but those times are long gone. Long gone and undesired.

She walks slowly through the wet concrete; the rain drenching her form. The town is small, abandoned, and under tight lock and key. Shiganshina had once been a thriving town, slowly turning into a large city. This is where it had all began, this small place was were the unpredictable happened, now everything within a 150 kilometer radius was surrounded by a steel gate that seemed to reach the sky. It was a sad place. Or at least would have been if she had any ability to feel.

The streets have cracks and there is wild grass growing, the vines of the trees have overtaken houses and buildings, there isn't life anywhere in sight and if something moves unexpectedly it's the eerie presence of the gate, that one thing she, and every contractor knows, is lurking around. Waiting patiently for something. There is permanent fog that litters the ground and even through the rain it is thick and unmoving. It makes the town seem a lot wearier than it actually is but it is suiting.

All the people that once lived here are either dead or dying; some, not many, managed to escape before the calamity descended. Those people probably couldn't sleep, thinking, imagining of all those they left behind. Their minds being stretched to the point were the only thing left was the thin line between sanity and insanity.

She walks and walks until she reaches a lake. A lake that, according to the map, wasn't supposed to be there. She knows she isn't wrong, they had encoded that map into the deepest crevices of her mind, as it was vital for the operation. She stands a foot away from it and her eyes search the surrounding areas. It occurs to her that she should contact her team but she doesn't have any orders other than to make sure everyone is accounted for. They aren't in any immediate danger, she knows, because she holds a phone in her left hand and her observer spirit is on the look out for them. Her spirit moves delicately shifting from person to person none of them paying her any heed.

She sees their movements throughout the town. There are a total of four people in her team, excluding herself. They're all contractors. Each with a different ability that could destroy lives in minutes and each with an apathetic and disinterested expression on their face. Through the reflection of the water she sees her own blank face. The smiles and laughs having evaded her for two years already. She doesn't dream and neither does the rest of her team. It's sad that they're not sad.

Her phone rings, and in this empty place, it is loud and it disrupts the unstable peace. She looks at her phone, cocking her head to the side in confusion. On the third ring she opens it and presses it to her ear. The only thing she hears is static.

In a single moment, the town pulses, a strange, unearthly thing. And then one of her teammates disappears off her radar.

She blinks.

She's about to report to her superior when, at the same time, all the other three presences disappear like smoke in the wind. She feels heat radiating in her cheek, she pulls the phone away and looks at it as it blows up in her hand. The overheating makes the skin on her hand fall off her bones like wet tissue paper and it begins to bleed uncontrollably. It hurts. It is the pain and her observer spirits inability to contact anyone that makes her realize that all her connections to the outside world have been cut off. She's been left stranded inside the gate. Alone.

This should fill her with despair, she knows, but she can't do anything but stand there. Different scenarios race through her mind but none are within her orders.

Time passes slowly, soon, she looses track of it. She doesn't know how long she stands there it could be minutes, it could be hours, but soon she feels a presence at her side.

There is something calling out to her. Not her superior, or her team, but something else, something that shouldn't be here. Not here where the only living thing is herself. It's the presence that follows dolls and contractors every time they enter the gate. It urges quietly to follow, she does, and in moments she feels herself drowning. Whatever was calling out to her is quiet now; so quiet that she hears her heart beating inside her ears. _Ba-bump. Ba-bump. _And then an indefinite silence.

* * *

**time: 1:12 PM**

The day has gone painfully slow for her, even with problem after problem arising, the time seemed to just drag on. She's irritated to no end and her coffee has become stale in her tongue. Her eyes are a bloodshot red and when she goes to the bathroom, in those few minutes that she's allowed a break, she looks at herself in the mirror and she can barely recognize herself under the oily skin and hair. There are bags under her eyes that seem like the seemingly endless trenches of the pacific.

She can do nothing more than sigh, splash water on her face, pull her long hair back into that trademark ponytail, and return to the conference room where she and her team have been holed up since a month ago. The preparations for the Hell's Gate project had been going through some financial cuts as of late and everywhere she turned only more frustration greeted her. The Maria government had refused to give leeway to the researchers of Sina, straining the already unstable trust between the two countries. She had been constantly awake, skipping out on sleep, hygiene, and eating just to make up for the work of three researchers. Everyone in her team was close to a breaking point.

But tonight the project had finally began it's first stages and even with the rising problems, most which had been anticipated, it was going fairly well. This wasn't the first time humans, or contractors, had gone into the gate, but it had been the first time that they had gotten so close to its epicenter. Of course, the human support team had remained outside the immediate danger area, only a team of four contractors and one doll had been the ones designated to enter the chaotic space. Tonight the weather conditions were just right and the temperature inside the gate was tolerable. Even if it was raining.

As she walks down the white hallways of the building she rubs at her temples, trying to disperse her growing headache before it turns into a full-scale migraine. She pulls out the pillbox from her lab coat pocket. It's a girly thing—something she knows she's not characterized for—and a present from Erwin.

For some reason she will never know, he had decided that it would suit her. It's round and small, fitting smugly under her clenched fist. It is decorated with intricate silver patterns laying on a deep red with a white flower sitting at the top. Every time, before she opens it, it has become a force of habit to trace that flower with the tip of her finger. She doesn't know anything about flowers, nothing at all, but every time she looks at the box she thinks she should pick up a book on flowers the next time she visit her favorite book store. She never does. When she's in the gardening isle she remembers her dirty lab coat and her colonies of growing viruses and she can do nothing but shift her feet and pick up the latest science magazine. _Next time_, she always thinks.

When Erwin had first presented it to her, she had thrown her head back and laughed, thinking it was some type of joke. But it hadn't been, when Erwin looked at her with that blank gaze that he only ever reserved for meetings she had almost choked on her own laughter. It had been slightly humiliating, slightly embarrassing, and her stomach had flipped dangerously. She had thanked him, of course, but not before accepting the gift in true Hange fashion, loudly joking that he must have been spying on her if he knew she had been put under medication. After that, she hadn't even given him a chance to talk and she walked swiftly out of his office, clenching the box tight and trying to calm the raging of her heart.

It's a strange thing, her relationship with the commander. She's not entirely sure where she stands with him. She's one of his most trusted subordinates, she's sure, but there are instances where she feels just a bit more important than anyone else. Hange doesn't usually like to think about it, the syndicate has no prohibitions against superior-subordinate relationships but she can't ever bring herself to take that one step forward with Erwin. She's not sure why but she tries not to dwell on it. Mostly because she's doing the things she loves, she's researching the gate, she's studying filoviruses in her spare time, she's achieved her dreams and she's doing things that make her happy. She doesn't let the thought of one man ruin her mood. The actual thought of her mood being ruined by a _man _is a stupid thing to begin with; she tries desperately to remain indifferent to it.

She's wrenched back from her thoughts when Molbit comes running around the corner, a stack of papers in his arms, and a frantic look on his face. He skids to a halt millimeters away from her, "T-th-the g-gate" He huffs out. "I-It's—there something seriously wrong." He finishes, regaining his breath. "These ratings," he frantically tries to explain, the papers flying all over the floor, "are unprecedented."

It doesn't take more than that to get her running down to the corridor, Molbit blinking at her sudden disappearance before he takes off after her, shouting, "THE PRESSURE LEVELS ARE RISING AND THE RADIATION LEVES ARE OFF THE CHARTS, EVERYTHING IS BEING CRUSHED IT'S—IT'S LIKE IT'S FALLING—COLLAPSING INTO ITSELF."

Hange reaches the conference room and everyone is staring at the screens with horror, warning screen after warning screen popping up, the radiation, the seismic monitor, the life lines of all the contractors inside the gate, everything is blaring at her, sirens begin to ring somewhere in the distance signifying the magnitude of the situation.

"GET ME A VISUAL!" She screams to nearest person, "WHERE IS THE TEAM?" The woman in charge of communication is scrambling through the screen controls and stutters out, "W-we los-t contact t-two m-min-nutes ag-o."

"WHAT DO YO MEAN 'LOST CONTACT' WHY DID NO ONE CALL ME? WHY DIDN'T THE DOLL REPORT?"

"I-I-I'm so-sorry. I-I don't-t kn-know."

There's an explosion somewhere far away. It's loud, it's big, and she knows exactly what it is. She's read about those bombs, dreamed about them, watched them explode in her monitor over and over and over again. Many things go through Hange's mind in that moment, some things that have everything to do with the gate, a few thoughts are about that 'book of prophecy' she had read regarding the nature of the gates, and the last thought is of Erwin and his easy, deceiving smiles.

There's a deafening moment where Hange has no idea what happens. One minute she sees the visual of the inner gate coming up on the main screen and the next minute the ground is shaking and giving away under her feet, her voice catches in her throat and she can't manage to scream. As she falls everything goes in a painfully slow motion, her eyes never leave the screen as it cuts off, but she manages to catch a glimpse of a form. There had been _someone _there, in the epicenter. Her body hits the floor with a painful crack and then it's like the sky itself is falling all around her. She hears wails of pain and cries of desperation but everything is eventually swallowed by the black abyss of her mind.

* * *

**year: 865  
****time: august 12; 07:21 AM**

Mikasa notes, with a tinge of fascination, that breaking a man's bones does not bring the same satisfaction as breaking his mind. She really wants to, she probably should, but Historia has her eyes on her and she doesn't want to give the Scouting Legion yet another reason to think that she's unstable and untamable. Which she is, but they don't need to know that. Besides, she muses, Historia would have to give her the okay to use her powers eventually. They've been here for an hour already and clearly, from the way they have gotten absolutely nothing done, the blond's careful approach was getting them nowhere.

Mikasa almost feels sorry for the man. Her team leader thought of him as human and turned a blind side to the corrupt contractor he was. And while it wouldn't regularly concern her, she would like to give him the chance to die like the monster he was. Rather than dying like an old dog with Historia's soft sympathy littering the room. She had read this man's confidential file—Historia probably hadn't been given access to it as it seemed that the syndicate had decided to keep their human agents free of any unnecessary exposure that might damage their mentality— the things he had done to survive had been many, and none were good. He had murdered, raped, was involved in human and drug trafficking. And what made it worse was that Mikasa understood him, if she hadn't been picked up by the syndicate, she would have done it too.

Because in the world they lived in, it was all about survival of the fittest. Contractors like them, who were rejected and detested by society, had to find a way to live somehow. It was an advantage that they had nothing like emotions or a sense of humanity to obstruct their survival.

This man would die, she would make sure of it. And not by the usually administered poison that was given to all contractors after they had outlived their usefulness, but by her hand. She would break him, tear apart his mind, make him remember all those useless human emotions, and give him the death he deserved.

Historia clears her throat somewhere behind her and Mikasa realizes she's been drifting into her own musings; she blinks and continues her assignment. "Tell me where it is and this can all end."

The unnamed contractor clenches his mouth tighter, as if the words were threatening to spill out and he had a hard time keeping them in. She almost, _almost_ smiles. She circles around the chair she has tied him to. "Shhhh," she murmurs against his ear soothingly, "It's okay. Just tell me what I want to know. It'll all be over soon enough. You're a contractor, you don't lie."

The man does nothing but turn his head away, as if that would break her attention, and presses his mouth even tighter, not allowing any sound to escape, not even a whimper. He's a tough nut this one. But no matter, she would _persuade _him and make him squeal. Slowly she trails her hand down his shoulder, like a lover, he shifts uncomfortably, and she knows, from the way his muscles tense that she has his full attention. She grasps his hand a gives it a comforting squeeze, shushing him when he begins breathing heavily. In one fluid motion she takes his index, middle, and ring finger and bends them back without any hesitation. The crack resounds through the room and the man opens his mouth letting out a silent scream; his worn out lip finally breaks and blood trickles slowly down his chin and neck. He withers against the chair; shutting his eyes close.

This is actually very surprising. She had heard of it, of contractor's evolving and gaining human emotions, but she had never seen it personally. It's fascinating and the urge to delve into his mind becomes an irritable itch at the back of her neck. The signal should have been given by now, was Historia seriously considering the possibility of him telling them the information they needed to know without the use of her powers, as if he were a human?

It couldn't be! She wouldn't allow this man to live. She wouldn't allow this emotional child to deny her the possibility of killing this rare contractor that had acquired human feelings. She wouldn't!

She subtly looks back and the blond's eyes are weak but unrelenting. And that's when it hits Mikasa, the girl wasn't thinking about the contractor, it was her. She was testing _her_. Mikasa's thoughts thin. Of course the syndicate would be keeping an eye on her after the disaster that happened at the Forest of Giant Trees. It's only reasonable. The dark haired woman almost wants to clench her teeth in irritation, but refrains. She wouldn't give the Legion or this human child the satisfaction of knowing that her mind was a raging mess of thoughts and carefully thought out plans. Again she snaps out of her thoughts and turns to the man, she would see this assignment through. After all, the only thing they were testing was her resistance to using her powers.

The contractor still refused to collaborate, so with this thought in mind she maneuvers herself to stand in front of him and with an annoyed sigh she drops the 'compassionate' act and takes the knife that had been sitting on the table. There are other tools there too, easier to use, probably, but she likes knives. They allowed her to get personal, and if Historia didn't give her the signal this was as personal as she was going to get.

Mikasa knows from experience that her blond supervisor doesn't like watching people suffer. She would have to prey on that weakness.

"I'll give you one last chance." She says, caressing the blade with her long, nimble, fingers."Tell me were it is."

He shakes his head frantically, and grits out, "Fuck you and the syndicate."

Mikasa cocks her head to the side and jams the knife into the man's thigh. "Okay, then." she says over his now audible screams, "We'll do this the hard way then." Lacking any compassion she pulls out the knife and then, with his blood pouring off it, brings it up to his cheek. "You're really handsome, you know." She presses the blade in, almost tenderly, and begins peeling away his skin. "It's really too bad you won't be able to show it again."

The man is withering and pulling his face back, so with purpose she grabs the back of his neck, and steadily finishes cutting. It is when tears start pouring out of his eyes that Historia's voice rings through the almost empty room. "Stop."

Mikasa purses her lips, _so close_, she thinks, and pulls away from him. She throws a glance to Historia, the girl's eyes show apprehension, as if she didn't like the conclusion she was coming to. For a second she holds Mikasa's gaze, and Mikasa almost thinks that she's not going to give her the okay; but the blond's eyes harden and looks away abruptly, "Do whatever you want," she says, already turning away to walk out the door, "We're short on time."

This time, Mikasa lets her lips shift upwards into a small smile, "Of course." She responds, her smile widens further when she sees how tense Historia's shoulders are. The girl leaves and she is left alone with a whimpering mess of a man. In the end it had been too easy.

"Don't worry," she begins, as she brings her hands to cup his face, his warm blood coating her fingers, "I'll make sure to drop your body off at the research lab and may you descend to hell on the Wings of Freedom."

* * *

**time: 9:32 AM**

Jean Kirschtein is not particularly a nervous person, however, today his blood is jittery. Of course, it would only be reasonable. It's his first day on the job. The Police Department of Trost had always been his goal, unfortunately for him, there had been many…er, distractions, so to say, along the way and he hadn't made it as soon as he would have like. But he's here. Finally working as a detective under Sector five. The section that dealt with tracking down contractors and their horrendous crimes.

He sits at his desk, reading through a file that had been handed to him by his superior. The face of a young, oriental girl stared back at him. With black as midnight hair, equally colored eyes, and pale skin. A pretty girl, sadly for whoever was looking for her, finding her wouldn't be a walk in the park. She was probably dead.

After the events twenty years ago when the gates appeared, hundreds of thousands of people had gone missing. They had either been killed or turned into contractors or dolls. Many had been sold to the underground with no hopes of ever getting out. One could never be sure where that friend or family member had ended up. It had taken years to begin understanding the catastrophe that had struck the world. And that was only grazing the surface, for ten years the existence of contractors and dolls had been kept a secret from the general public, but after part of Hell's gate fell apart seven years ago there was nothing anyone could do to keep everything under wraps.

It had been a complete disaster. Jean remembers seeing so many protests in so many places that in the end they all blended together and he couldn't tell apart the rights from the wrongs. The King, politicians, activists, the common folk, everyone had been concerned about the threat these contractors presented. Then, the ultimate question was brought up, were they human? Five years ago the world had reached an agreement.

No.

They were not human and therefore should not be treated, judged, or accepted as such. A number of laws had been passed to prevent contractors from being integrated to society. They were given the choice to work as dogs for the government; many did, as they saw it as the easiest way to assure their survival. But corporations, mafia, and anyone that had enough money privately employed the majority. And then there were the ones that decided that they didn't want to be considered monsters, the rare ones that actually had an ounce of humanity left in their conscious, those contractors went into hiding and blended into the human population. But as time wore on with the aid of technology, they were hunted down and killed. It sent a message to all the rational contractors.

But three years ago, when Hell's gate finally gave away and collapsed into itself, things changed. Contractors rose up, left and right, demanding respect and consideration. A scientist had said that contractors were evolving, slowly but surely regaining their emotions and humanity. And that sent the world into a swirl of rising tensions and threats. Humans tried to justify their actions by reminding everyone of the destruction contractors caused and they were despised even more. And contractors in turn killed to remind them who was more powerful. They threw the line that humans used to justify their crimes back at them: "Survival of the Fittest." It was a cycle of hates that never ended.

He checks his watch, and breaks away from his thoughts; with a sigh he closes the folder, and stands from his desk. He had a meeting to attend. Honestly, it was a meeting he would've liked to avoid more than anything but he's getting a new team today and he feels that he must personally evaluate their potential.

He leaves his new office during lunchtime and slowly makes his way down the busy streets that is downtown Trost. He wades through the crowd with ease, having long ago gotten used to the heavily populated areas. When he arrives at the park, the meeting place, he sits on the farthest bench from the playground, where he sees little kids playing and their parents sitting close by. He pulls out his phone and quietly waits.

The minutes drag on slowly, and little by little he begins telling apart his new teammates from the crowd of people that gather around the park. There is one perked on the tree behind him, _why _said person is in tree is beyond him. A blond man sits across from Jean with his gaze casted downwards; he's nervously fiddling with the watch on his right hand. A pretty blue-eyed girl passes by with a child on her hip, her headphones secure on her ears, and she heads to the playground. And the last one sits on the other side of the playground, he can't really see them, but he knows they're part of his team because he can tell they're a contractor. It's almost too obvious but none of the humans in the vicinity seem to notice.

These people would be his new companions and the only reason Jean knows their faces is because he had connections with one the main hackers in the syndicate. The syndicate never gave them any clue as to how to recognize people on their team, an agent had to figure it out by themselves. Which was a pretty stupid thing, if anyone ever asked Jean. But there were all these things about being discreet and 'laying low'.

When they've all been there for close to fifteen minutes, he's counted, his phone vibrates in his pocket. He sees the blond man sitting on the bench across from him look at his watch for the umpteenth time that morning as he pulls out his phone from his pants pocket. Jean puts the phone to his ear, "_Ladies and gentlemen_," an apathetic voice begins, "_it seems we are all here_."

There is a moment of silence in the line but whoever it is soon continues speaking. "_As of today, the five of you will be a team, I sincerely hope you can get along_." Jean doesn't hear much enthusiasm in that statement, almost as if the person knew they _wouldn't _get along. "_Your mission is pretty simple: find the disappeared doll. Of course, it might not be too easy, since she has somehow been evading the Scouting Legion for more than three years now. There has been some intel that says she has been spotted in this town more than once. But she hasn't been apprehended yet. Honestly, it only goes to show how…shorthanded we are at the moment_." There is a humorless chuckle. "_Besides this, you are free to do whatever you wish, but I would advise that you get acquaintanced with your fellow teammates, or at least know what each of you look like. The Legion will be sending each of you an information packet with details about the doll you need to locate. Also, in the long run their might be some extra missions, but do not fret, you will be rewarded handsomely. That is all, have a nice day, and may you always remember that you fly on the Wings of Freedom_."

The line cuts and at the same time he feels two presences disappear, the blond man shoots up and walks away hastily and the girl with the kid doesn't leave the playground area. _So much for getting to know each other_, Jean thinks.

He gets up and begins walking out of the park; he checks his watch and realizes that he still has twenty minutes to spare. He lets out a long sigh and enters the first establishment that he reaches. It is a sandwich shop and the smell makes his mouth water, he stays there for the remaining time of his lunch break.

When he's walking back to the police station the streets are even busier that before, everyone trying to get back to their jobs, this time however, rather than quickly evading the crowd, he lets himself walk with the flow of people. He's making the final turn to his stop when suddenly, out of nowhere; there comes a young woman crashing into him. She profoundly apologizes and continues running down the street, her skirt flaring all around her as she runs.

He rubs the side of his ribs were she had struck during their collision and realizes, slowly, that the girl's wallet had fallen on the ground. Jean picks it up, inspects it, and slides it into his pocket.

He would return it after work.

* * *

**time: 12:23 PM**

Armin doesn't like his new team. It's something he's sure of the moment he had been assigned to them. He didn't even _know _them. But he was already dreading their collaboration. He's sure that they're all capable, if he remembers correctly, Erwin had said that they were the best in each of their respective positions.

But that doesn't stop the sliver of contempt and hesitance that rises from his gut. Ultimately, Armin has always been very self-aware to acknowledge this, the reason he didn't find himself taken with them was probably because this made his research very exposed to outsiders. It's heartless, but his research matter to him more than anything else in the world. More than equality, more than fairness, more than any of the bonds he had at the moment.

But of course, like every other scientist that was researching the gate, he had a reason. His whole life, since that day in Shiganshina, had always revolved around the gates. Sometimes he felt that they were the only reason for his existence. He was morbidly fascinated with the idea.

He walks down the streets of Trost with purpose, at least he that's what he likes to tell himself. He doesn't really have a destination, but his feet are carrying him to PANDORA's main building. The only agency that had been give the authority by the government to research the gates, it had recently become an international agency, not limiting scientists from other regions outside of Maria. PANDORA is a strange place. He's known since the moment he first set foot in it, it's filled with strange equipment, even stranger individuals, and the atmosphere is heavy with pressure and expectations. He's gotten so used to it that he doesn't find it intimidating anymore, almost like coming home. Almost.

When he finally reaches his assigned lab, he sits on a stool and thinks. The lab, he had learned, was the only place where he could find some peace. His mind comes up with countless scenarios that soon their merging together and his mind is an array of numbers, situations, and faces. He can't tell them apart anymore.

In a split moment he's in the ferry again, trying to comfort an emotionless friend, in a moment he's there again, in that room where there had been so much blood and so much screams and so much pain. He relives it every time; the pain never subsides. He had heard once that time heals all wounds, but this wound, this open, gaping wound only seemed to get deeper and deeper as the years wore on.

Armin's mind pulls out an old memory, a happier one, when it had been Eren, Mikasa, and him, and the world had been so much simpler. When there were no gates and the only things they had to fear was the arrival of the night when each of them had to go to their respective homes. He remembers Eren's curious eyes and Mikasa's rare smiles. Sometimes he desperately wishes he could go back.

It is now, this very moment, this very instant, were the only thing he can hear is the air sliding through the air vents and the slow ticking of the clock that he realizes that growing up brought many difficult decisions. He sits on the stool and contemplates all the things he can do, all the things he should be old enough to do but probably isn't strong enough to accomplish.

He doesn't want to be 'grown up', he clutches his head in his hands, begins pulling at his hair, he doesn't want to do this anymore. Doesn't want to lie, doesn't want to hurt anyone, doesn't want to do anything except lay down and die. It would be so much easier he's actually considered it before maybe it's not too late—

His phone vibrates in his pocket.

It's a text.

It's a text from Eren. His best friend. Sometimes he needs to remind himself of this more than once. When he's in the lab, when he's thinking this hard, it takes him a while to get back to reality.

_Are we still meeting up tonight?_

No, he wants to say but responds with a Yes.

_Cool! See you then. Oh, and I dropped off the file at the police department today. I know you said it was hopeless, but I just can't stop looking for her._

This makes him a bit angry. Of course Eren wouldn't listen to him, it's not something new. But he really wished Eren would've consulted him about this. Not because he thinks it's hopeless, but because when he had looked through the files of his new teammates a few weeks ago he had found her.

And Eren, no matter what he ever said, would never be able to accept her. Not now.

And she would never accept him.

* * *

**time: 3:45 PM**

It is with great distaste that Levi looks around his new dingy apartment. It is an old place, small and dirty. Everything he hates all rolled up into one. The only good thing about it, just barely, was that it was in the best location possible.

There were five parks, all within a walking distance, and the tall skyscrapers in the city created dark alleys that he could use to escape if he ever needed to. And also, since the place was so disgustingly dirty, he could easily make his payment. His apartment is located in the seventh floor of the old complex, it provided a clear view of the main street and if he ever cared enough to look, a good view of the sunset. He looks around the place one last time before he sets out to unpack his suitcase.

Levi had learned, after years of working for the Scouting Legion, that he didn't need much of anything to survive. Not when he was moving around constantly. He only possessed a few changes of clothes and his weapons. If he needed anything else he would go out and buy it, but he never purchase anything he didn't need. It is why all his thirty-seven previous homes had been so easy to abandon and forget.

There was only one place, _one_, that his human emotions refused to forget. However, that place hadn't been his home, it had been Petra's. But those are memories he refuses to dwell on. Because they angered him, every time he thought about his previous team he grew furious and plans for revenge surfaced. He knows he can't let emotions overrule his judgment, but at times like these, when he's all alone and he doesn't have an assignment he can't stop the onslaught of memories that flood his mind.

He hadn't even been there at the time of their ultimate demise, but every time he thought about the report he had been handed he saw red. Because it had been so _formal, _so business-like, but when it came down to it what made him livid was the explanation each of their profiles had. Right there, next to reason of death.

_Collateral Damage._

As if they were disposable and unimportant, but they had been so, so much more. To him. And to their families, because Petra, Auruo and Gunter had been _human _the only other contractor had been Erd. They had all had families and people that waited for them everyday at home. It made him realize that the syndicate didn't value anyone's life, not their contractors', not the humans', no one that they deemed replaceable.

There's an insistant beeping that makes him snap back to the weary present, it's his hand phone. Erwin's name flashes on the screen and he want's to so badly ignore the call but he knows he can't.

"Yes," He begins, his voice short and clipped and dripping with dissatisfaction.

"_So I heard you met your new team today?_" The other man's voice is smooth, long used to Levi's inconsistent moods.

"Yes, they're children. Lucky me. I get to play babysitter." He moves around the apartment, inspecting every nook and cranny of it, he begins to make a mental list of all the supplies he'll need to get this place to look at least somewhat presentable.

"_They're all good agents, I'll have you know. I chose them myself._"

He looks inside the main closet and realizes with distaste that there is a leak on one of the top corners. The pluming in this place must be prehistoric.

"So why couldn't you get me a nicer apartment? This place is filthy. I don't think I'll be able to get any sleep."

"_The Legion is having its annual budget cuts. I'm sorry I failed to get you a condominium in the center of the city. My apologies. But hey, don't deny that you'll have a wonderful time cleaning it._" Erwin responds in a deadpan voice. Levi can imagine him in his minds eye, sitting in that stuffy office of his, with the phone in the crook of his shoulder and his head tilted to side holding it in place. The blond has uncanny ability to multitask so he's probably doing some form of paperwork, eating, commanding some poor soul to give up their life _for the good of humanity_, and reviewing budget reports all at the same time. He's so typical.

"No need to be so concerned. I'll live." He doesn't give him a chance to make a reply, and continues on, "Tell me about these kids."

"_Don't worry. If you die, I'll make sure to stay away from your funeral. That way you can die in peace. And they're good. Jean is a detective at the local police department so that will help. Armin is…_" He trails off, almost as if lost in thought, but continues after a moment of silence, "_He's a lot of things but he's researching the gates so he'll be inside PANDORA. Krista is playing nanny to the mayor's son, she's a great informant. And the other contractor she's…she's…on indefinite probation." _There is a pause. "_Before this, she was assigned to a highly classified mission in which many people died and from what I hear she's gone against orders many times. So they put her under me._"

"Perfect." Levi mutters out as he puts a bucket he had found in the kitchen under the leak. "A rule breaker. You know how much I enjoy working with them."

"_This is a very important mission Levi. I expect you to complete it._" There is an edge to Erwin's voice, as there had been for the past three years when anything related to the collapse of Hell's gate was mentioned. The bags under Erwin's eyes had never disappeared; neither had the dead look in them.

"I will do my best." Levi responds and hangs up. It irritates him how loyal Erwin remains to the syndicate after everything that they had done. He doesn't understand it. Truthfully, he doesn't even want to.

As the hours tick by the filthiness of his apartment becomes unbearable so he goes to the closest convenient store to buy the long list of supplies he decided he needed. The walk is short, and the store is almost empty, except for another customer and this greatly pleases him. He wouldn't have to deal with humans and their nosy ways. It takes him a while but he finds everything he needs, down to his favorite brand of gloves, it raises his mood. If only just slightly.

As he walks home the light of the sky slowly dims and the heat of August turns into a cool drizzle. He picks up his pace and by the time he enters his dark home, the rain is pouring unforgivably outside. Again he remembers his team, for it had been raining when he received the news of their death. Erd with his stoic face, Auruo with his foolishly young aspirations, Gunter with those mischievous intentions. Most of all he remembered Petra and the sweet smell of her skin. He remembered her, all of her. And he remembered the hate he held for the Scouting Legion and remembered everything he always wished to forget.

* * *

**year: 865  
****time: august 13; 6:23 AM**

Jean knows this is stupid. It's six in the morning he could be waking the woman up, but yesterday an unexpected chase had sidetracked him and he hadn't been able to make it home until one in the morning. This afternoon he wouldn't be able to deliver the wallet either, it was now or never.

After looking at her ID for her address he had then proceeded to make a fool out of himself trying to locate her house. At least there weren't many people up at this time, if not, he's sure he would have shot himself. He had walked by the same waffle stand _five _times already.

Not one to be deterred he finally, _finally _noticed a small house hidden by two large oak trees at the far end of the street. The numbers had been scrapped off, but if one looked closely the outline of the numbers could still be seen.

He checked the woman's ID once, and double-checked for good measure. When he was absolutely sure this was the right house he went around, following the concrete path to the side of the house, where there was a wooden door. He noticed two things, one the doorbell was broken and two, the place was really well kept. There was a long row of flowers lined up, framing the path to the door. He didn't know any of them.

There were Sunflower's peeking from behind the wooden fence, it was the only flower he could easily tell apart (aside from roses), and the whole place was just really…earthy. It made him calm, somehow.

He knocked.

A few seconds ticked by, and he knocked again, louder this time. He heard a muffled shout from the back and soon a nervous, meek looking girl answered the door.

"Hello," she said, her voice soft but firm, "How may I help you?"

"Uhh," He began intelligently, "I, uh, umm, I found this." He showed her the blue wallet, trying to explain his presence. "I think someone that lives here owns it?"

The girl tilted her head to the side, her eyes lighting up in recognition. "Yes!" She explained, her demeanor changing and yet still looking very frail, "It's from here. They went crazy looking for this yesterday. Thank you so much for bringing it."

"You're welcome." He handed it to her, "You should tell her to be more careful."

"We always tell her. But she's such a klutz it's not really funny." She answered, taking the offered item. "Would you like to have a cup of coffee, as a thank you?"

Jean lifted up his hands, refusing, "No. Sorry, I must get to work. I just came to drop it off."

"I see. But really thank you very much."

And that was the end of that. Or so he thought.

He was making his was down the busy streets of Trost during his lunch break when he heard an inhuman screech from behind him. "YOU!"

It was the last thing he heard before being yanked roughly by the back of his collar and pulled down. His head hit the concrete and stars flew.

"YOU THIEF!" He heard from above, and his unfocused eyes landed on the woman from yesterday. "WHERE IS THE WALLET YOU SORRY EXCUSE OF A MAN?"

It took him a while to register her question and the situation. The brown haired woman lost her patience and began shaking him by the tie. "ANSWER ME!"

"OW, What the hell?" He angrily shouted, his hands coming up around hers in an attempt to stop her.

"Where's the wallet?" She questioned, bringing his face up to hers, her golden irises flashing with menace.

"I-I re-returned i-it to y-your h-house." He wheezed out. This comment made her mood shift so fast Jean almost got a whiplash.

"OH!" she exclaimed, retreating her hands and pulling him up with frightening ease. "You should have said so sooner, I almost killed you."

Jean stood there stupidly as she dusted off his clothes and listened to her rambles, she kept talking and talking and he was so disoriented he didn't even know what she was saying, or trying to say.

In the end all that he catched was, "I'm Alexandra Rainsworth and you are?"

"Alexandra?" He questioned stupidly.

"It's nice to meet you, Alexandra. I always meet people with the same name as me."

It was then that the recent events hit him. "What? NO!" He lashes out, "What the fucking hell woman, what the hell was all THAT?"

Her head tilts to the side, "What was what?"

"THAT!" He waves around, he feels childish and cheated. Of something. His head is aching from the impact with the ground and he doesn't want to do anything but lay down and not move. But instead he takes a deep, deep breath and stops. Stops everything, he forces his breathing to calm, and he focuses his eyes on the woman before him. She's looking at him expectantly, as if she _didn't _just assault him and almost choked him. The girl's hair is cropped up above her shoulders, a small blue pin holds it back on one side, it's a huge contrast to the chocolate brown of her hair. He's not sure why he notices this, but the pin is very attention grabbing, well, not really, but he really just needs to find something to push all his focus on.

When he's finally calm, he begins again, "What just happened?"

This is like a queue for her, because she begins talking, apparently repeating what she had just said a few minutes ago, "Yesterday," She begins, this time slowly, as if talking to a child, "I knocked into you and when I got home I realized my wallet was missing. Well, it's wasn't really mine, it was my sister's, but that's beside the point. I unfairly assumed that you had stolen it and I decided to hunt you down. So when I saw you I thought 'he returns to the scene of the crime' and acted on impulse but obviously you don't have it anymore since you returned it. And you're not a thief. Apparently." She looks at the ground and her face lights up, she bends down and picks up something. _His_ _wallet_. She inspects it and wipes away imaginary dust; she then opens it and sees his badge. Her cheeks pink. "I'm so sorry Detective Kirschtein."

Throughout her whole explanation there was something that struck Jean as odd. Why did the pin in her hair change colors? He's sure the pin was blue a minute ago, why is green now?

"Your pin…?" Is the first thing he lets out.

She looks confused for a moment but then her mouth forms a tiny o-shape. She bows her head slightly, as if to give him a better view, "It was a present, from my sister. She said it was a mood pin, or something. That's why it changes colors. It's my favorite so I always wear it."

"Right." He says and takes his wallet from her hands; they're pleasantly cool, and moves on with his walk.

"WAIT!" Alexandra exclaims, and grabs his arm. He almost looses his balance from the forceful tug. He pulls away abruptly, "Just what the _hell _woman?"

Said woman huffs, "Jeez, you're not being a very kind government official, detective. You must be new, huh?"

Jean gives out a heavy sigh and grits, "How may I help you ma'am?"

"Oh, I don't need any help, but thanks for asking." Jean wants to shoot himself, he really does. "But, I would really appreciate it if you let me invite you to a cup of coffee."

The man pauses in planning his own suicide, "_Why?_"

The woman has the audacity to look embarrassed, "As an apology. And thanks." She adds on hastily. "For the wallet thing."

"I'm sorry," he says, (he's not) "But I don't think I have any time at the moment." He turns and walks away fully expecting to be done with the conversation but the woman follows him.

"Okay, not today. When are you free?"

What was it with people and cups of coffee, since when did offering an apology, or thanks, come with a cup of coffee?

"Never."

She jumps in front of him and her golden irises hold him in place, "One cup of coffee is all I'm asking for, not your undying love."

Again Jean pauses, "_Are you coming on to me?_" He incredulously lets out.

She actually looks affronted and doesn't hesitate, "Absolutely not. But my sister taught me to show my appreciation to the people that help me. Even if they're not-so-kind government employees."

Jean sighs so deeply he feels two years of his life leave him. "One cup. One." The woman's hair bounces along with the nodding of her head. "Tomorrow night at Suzy's. You know where that is right?"

"Sure I do. My neighbor works there."

"Okay then." He begins walking away yet again. And hears from behind him, "Goodbye Detective Kirschtein" He distinctively hears her murmur something along the lines of 'such a grumpy old man'.

* * *

**year: 865  
****time: august 15: 9:56 PM**

She wakes up abruptly from her much-needed sleep. She's sweating and her shirt is soaked from the moisture. She clenches her fists; it had been the same dream for the past month. But it wasn't the dream that made her frightened, it wasn't a very good dream, but she had seen, had done, some pretty nightmarish stuff herself she'd practically become immune to blood and death. What makes her wake up in a pool of her own sweat was the fact that she was _dreaming_.

Contractors did not dream.

She scoots close to her nightstand and pulls the drawer open. She rummages around until she finds the small box that she kept there for these times. It's a difficult process, especially in the dark, but she had done this so many times, under so many circumstances that for her, it was almost like a perfected art. She opens the box and with her fingers gets the feel of the needle and the small bottle holding her precious payment. She arranges everything quickly, and soon she's injecting the morphine into her system, it calms her, makes her almost docile. And it makes her hyperaware; all traces of sleepiness leaves her system just as the morphine calms her muscles.

She won't be sleeping tonight. Again.

Mikasa drags herself out of the bed, the morphine making her almost numb, she doesn't know how many times she's done this, but it feels great every time. Really, this payment had to be one of the bests, if she does say so herself. She decides to take a walk.

When she's crossing the bridge she feels someone's eyes on her. This doesn't alarm her; she's dealt with the occasional rapist, or freak, in the middle of the night many, many times. She likes to think she's purging the world of its filth.

She makes her way under the bridge, the moon illuminating her way and surroundings, and it isn't until she feels the presence directly behind her that she realizes that this wasn't an occasional occurrence anymore. She turns around slowly, not trying to give away any of her thoughts.

She feels him in the shadows and it only takes her a moment to make the connection. It's a contractor, one with teleportation abilities it seemed.

"You figured it out fast." A male voice comes. "Not many people can."

"I'm not many people." She says and turns away from him, trying to appear uninterested but fully evaluating her situation. He appears in front of her so quickly she gives a start and takes a step back. The first thing she notices is his height. "And you," she continues, "It seems it's past your bed time, boy."

"I'm ten years your senior, _girl_."

"Sure you are. Too bad you won't ever be able to back it up with that height."

"I can back it up by slicing you to pieces, if you'd like." He's so close their chests touch.

She closes her eyes and searches. "Listen, Levi, sir, I don't appreciate the harassing."

He pulls back, "So it's true."

"Sure is," Mikasa replies, taking the opportunity and begins walking away.

"Wait." His voice is cold. "I have some questions for you, irregular monster."

"Oh, haven't I heard that one before." She lets out almost sarcastically.

"I heard you were at The Forest of Giant Trees when Annie was apprehended." It makes her pause. And turn to look at him.

"I was there." She says, because she knows it was his team whom she had worked with. Her very first mission as a contractor from the syndicate. It had been so easy, so easy to kill, so easy for everything to get out of hand.

"What happened?" His voice is so demanding it irritates her.

She walks back to him; coming so close she could smell the clorox coming off him in nauseating waves. "I don't have any orders to divulge that information to you, sir."

His eyes narrow so low she can barely see his black irises, "I will be your new superior officer. It would be good to start off on the same foot."

"It sure would. But in the long run, I don't think your short legs would be able to keep up with mine. Sir."

"I would love to beat the insolence out of you, but I must refrain, since you are a monster. I wouldn't want to die at the hands of an irregularity such as yourself. Besides, what would Erwin do without me?"

"I wouldn't even think about it. Captain Levi, if I may, I'd like to give you a piece of advice, since your mind is so full of thoughts I could barely manage to find your name."

He doesn't like were this is going, she can see it in his eyes. She bends down and brushes her lips against his earlobe, "It would be wise for you to act like a contractor, those feelings of guilt and regret won't do it for your reputation."

She kisses his cheek. "Sir."

Mikasa leaves and doesn't turn back, not now. Not ever.

* * *

**note five: **i could have gone into great detail about the darker than black universe and try to explain it all to all those people who haven't watched it but then i remembered that the dtb universe is a chaotic place and one can only hope to understand half of it. (for those of you who have watched it, you guys know what i'm talking about.) everything is possible in the dtb universe, remember that.

**note six: **this was supposed to be a one-shot, but then i started getting more and more ideas and it turned into a monster so, to not overwhelm, i'll turn it instead to a three-shot (or four shot, i don't know). my update rate is…not consistent so it may be a few weeks(or months)before i post the second chapter. (i don't want to make any false promises) if it helps i already have the outline for the whole story. i just need to do a lot of research for some things. like an EMP bomb (who's watching three days?) and stuff.

**note seven: **i didn't want to make this a painful story, but then, after re-watching darker than black i remembered that _someone _always had to die (and in snk too). it never had a real happy ending. snk and dtb are not good for the heart. and i just kindda combined them and made a nightmare. excuse my imagination.

**note eight: **i'm sure this has some grammatical mistakes, all my pieces do. but i'm not a professional writer and i don't have an editor, unfortunately. however, if anyone is willing to become my beta reader…i'd really appreciate it. we'd have lots of fun. (not really, i'm very boring but hey)

**please, please review, favorite, follow and all that great stuff!  
****thanks for reading.**


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